Manners Maketh Man
by LongLiveTheEmperor
Summary: A man walks into the Mos Eisley cantina for a quiet drink, but ends up having to teach a group of hoodlums a lesson.


**A/N: Anyone who knows what movie this is referencing is amazing and gets my stamp of approval. Side note, this is meant to follow the timeline of SweetSinger2010's "After Everything", and is set a little while before that story begins.**

A man walked into Chalmun's Spaceport Cantina, which was unusually empty, and slapped some credits on the bar.

"The usual, Wuher."

The husky bartender scrubbed a glass and raised a skeptical eyebrow at the young man. "Let me guess. Bantha blaster, stirred for ten seconds while glancing at an unopened bottle of Corellian Red."

"You know it", the dark-haired fellow replied with a smirk.

After getting his drink, he walked over to his usual booth and just stared out the window. Amidst all the hustle and bustle that normally defined this place, the one thing this character enjoyed seeing the most was a group of children of various species playing catch with an empty stormtrooper helmet.

 _At least the war's over_ , he thought as he slowly nursed his drink.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sleazy voice.

"Dev Morgen, you rotten son of a dewback."

The man -Dev Morgen- looked and saw a group of men, each one wielding a blunt object in their hands, while the leader also had a blaster strapped to his hip.

"Can I help you?"

"You've caused a lot of trouble for us this past year and you thought we wouldn't track you down eventually? Your little 'escapades' have cost us some serious coin."

"Sir, you must really have me confused with someone else", the fellow responded before downing another sip.

The leader of the group huffed before pulling out a holotransmitter and activating it. The device lit up with a three-dimensional projection of a man in a cloak riding a speeder bike with a child tucked safely between him and the controls.

"You've stolen five slaves from us in the last two months alone. I'd say you owe us a lot more than just money."

The man sighed and stood up, holding his hands in a mock surrender pose. "Gentlemen, gentlemen. Can't we just be civilized about this? Isn't there another form of catharsis that'll benefit everyone?"

The leader stood still for a moment, eyeing him up and down. Licking his teeth, the ruffian nodded. "Yeah. I believe there is. You walk out of this bar and never come back, and never interfere with our business again."

"And how exactly does that benefit us all?", Morgen inquired as he leaned back with his hands on the table.

"We keep making money, and you don't die. Win-win situation."

A few seconds of silence passed by before Dev made a popping sound and clapped his hands together. "I think that's a fairly reasonable solution. If you'll excuse me."

He walked between the group of ruffians and made his way towards the door, giving a somewhat confusing nod to Wuher, who slowly took cover behind the bar.

The gang was laughing as the young man appeared to be fleeing like a coward.

"One more thing, Morgen, you might wanna get that beard trimmed. You look like crap even for Tatooine."

Dev stopped at the door just like he planned, putting his hands on the locking mechanisms.

"Manners."

 _*Click*_

"Maketh."

 _*Click*_

"Man."

 _*Click*_

"Do you know what that means?", he asked the gang. Confused, they all just looked at each other, making Dev smile devilishly.

"Then let me teach you a lesson."

He reached out with his right hand, and a mug flew out of nowhere and broke against the leader's head, knocking him to the floor unconscious.

The gang members looked in shock as their boss went down, and then stared at Dev as he nonchalantly strolled back into the main barroom.

"Are we going to stand around here all day, or are we going to fight?"

One of the thugs lunged forward and swung his club, but Dev was too fast and dodged the blow, retaliating with a hard elbow into the goon's back.

Another one came at him with a vibro-knife, which he managed to wrestle from the ruffian's grip and bury it in his shoulder. As that poor sap cried out in agony, the two remaining hoodlums tried to attack Dev with pure brute force, but he managed to jump, do a flip, and land behind them before banging their heads together.

All in the span of about twenty seconds.

Wuher stood up from behind the bar and looked at the mess.

"Oh gods. Look at this mess you made, Bridger."

Ezra had trusted Wuher enough to reveal his real name to the bartender shortly after he arrived on Tatooine, but used the Dev Morgen alias around everyone else.

"Sorry, pal. Those guys are really annoying."

"Ach. Whatever. It's garbage day anyway. I'll just put them out back with the other trash", the bartender growled as he spit-shined a dirty spot on the bar, "But this is the last time this happens in my place."

Ezra walked back over to his booth, downed the last sip of Bantha blaster, and shot Wuher a cocky grin.

"That all depends on whether or not the people on this dustball start behaving themselves."

The Jedi walked back to the door, took his cloak from the rack, and put it on as he walked back out into Tatooine's blazing sunlight.


End file.
